Mirror images

It's kind of funny, really. I look at myself in the mirror every day. I've lived in this body for 27 years. Intellectually, I know what I look like. I can describe myself in generic terms - height, build, hair color... but when I try to summon up a mental image of myself, I can't.

I can see little details - the chipped tooth that I never had fixed, the freckles scattered across my forehead, the strand of hair that always escapes from behind my ear, but I can't see my face as a whole. Nor the rest of my body. Just pieces... the way my stomach sticks out just that much further than I want it to, the dark shiny ring in my navel, the curving lines of muscle bellies on my forearms (and boy-howdy, is that still a surprise. If you asked me to make a list of Words Least Likely to Ever Be Used to Describe Becky, 'muscular' would be near the top of the list. Right up there with 'tall,' 'sexy,' and 'dour.').

I can call up images of photos of myself, but they never look quite real. And I can see other people clearly in my mind, but no matter how hard I try, I can't see myself. It's not a big deal, or a handicap, but... it's definitely odd. I don't know if everyone has this same blind spot, or if it's just me, or why.

I don't even know why this just struck me as important. Maybe I need to find other, more important things to think about, instead of dwelling on myself.... it's as good an excuse as any to start a new hobby, I suppose.

Dangerous Furniture....

...or, 'The Perils of Letting Your Pet Banshee Get Too Tired and Punchy'

I just hit my head on the corner of my dresser. It (the corner, not my head) was very sharp, and it (my head, not the corner) hurts a lot. Very sharp corner. I am afraid there might be a hole in my head now.

My boyfriend promised me that my brains won't leak out the hole in my head, because he says my brains are very big since I am very smart, but I'm not so certain. I wouldn't want to fall asleep and find out in the morning that when I rolled over, all my brains spilled out.

And even if they don't, what if Stuff gets in through the hole? Any old thing could crawl in there. Bugs. Or bacteria. A whole big gang of bacteria could just march in there while I'm sleeping, and set up camp down nestled in the wrinkles of my brain. Yucky, anaerobic bacteria in my nice, oxygen-free skull. And they'd multiply, and grow into big mushy plaques, and make foul-smelling gas that would leak out my ears, and people would think that I was all smelly and dirty and unwashed, but it would really be my infected brains sloshing around.... and one day, suddenly I would wake up, and my boyfriend would say good morning to me, but all I could say back would be 'gleeb,' because my head would just be full of stinky infected brain jello, and I couldn't think anymore, and all because I hit my head on my dresser.....

I need a band-aid.